Dementors Cold vs Dragons Warmth
by Bludgerhead
Summary: Sirius Black is cold as fuck, but perhaps a certain dragonologist Weasley can warm him up? One-shot.


I do not own any of these characters. I am only playing around with them for my own amusement.

* * *

**January 1996**

Sirius Black was cold.

Cold as Fuck.

Christmas was over and his godson, Harry, had gone back to school, leaving Sirius alone in his dark, gloomy and freezing family home.

Cold as fuck.

Merlin, he hated this house.

In his youth he had gladly escaped the house as soon as he had the chance and he had sworn never to return, but now that he had he had volunteered his property as headquarters for the order . . . he was unable to leave.

Fate was cruel that way.

Being here brought back so many memories he'd prefer to forget. Memories of his unhappy childhood, of his fathers' disappointment and his mothers cruelty. Even after she'd been dead for more than ten years, she still woke the same deepfelt fear in him she'd done while she was still alive. He couldn't even get away from her stupid portrait!

Merlin, he hated her.

Now that he was stuck here; she loomed over him like another dementor. Sucking out every trace of happiness he may have gotten from being free. From seeing Harry again, or from meeting his friend Remus again.

It was like Azcaban all over again, only with better furniture.

And it was cold as fuck.

Sirius snuggled deeper into his blankets. Ever since Azcaban he had never been able to shake off the chill.

Only the fire whiskey could form some sort of warmth in him, if only down his throat and briefly in his stomach before it slowly faded away and required him to take another sip. There had been a lot of fire whiskey lately. Sirius was ashamed to admit he was probably on his way to become an alcoholic. But he couldn't help it. No matter how many layers of clothing he wore, no matter how close to the fireplace he sat; fire whiskey was the only thing that had some effect against the coldness.

He was fully aware that drunkenness didn't make him any warmer. But at least the alcohol numbed his temperature sensors and made his body believe it was warmer. It was too easy to fall for that temptation. Also, his mother used to hate fire whiskey . . . everything his mother hated was good enough for him.

Sirius sat huddled in front of the fireplace in the living room, wearing two woollen sweaters, three pairs of woollen socks (curtesy of Molly Weasley) and two blankets.

He was still cold.

Not even while he had stayed in the south of Spain for a few months, soaking in as much warmth as he could had he been able to shake off the chill. Even on the hottest of days his core had adamantly stayed cool. Sirius could imagine the bone biting frigidity from the dementors would be enough to frighten off the worst types of fire. Perhaps even fiendfyre . . .

While he sat there he came to the same conclusion he'd had for years now. He had spent too long in that prison. He should have busted out sooner . . .

Correction; the ministry should have given him a fair trial instead of tossing him into Azcaban without questions.

Sirius felt another wave of bitterness at the thought.

There had been a lot of bitterness lately.

Bitterness and pain.

Bitterness because Dumbledore refused to let him out of his family home, while he let that shitface Snape roam free among his deatheater friends. Bitterness over the ministry because of their failures towards himself and now against his godson. Bitterness over himself and for what his own reckless nature had done to him.

Pain for what he'd lost and what the ministry had taken away from him. James would never laugh at his jokes again, Lily would never scold him for his crude language again. He had never seen his godson grow up like he'd wanted. He had never been there for Remus, whos' life had been so incredibly lonely since Siriuss' imprisonment . . . since Sirius left him.

He swallowed down the familiar lump that formed in his throat. It was always there, threatening to overwhelm him whenever he let his thoughts stray too far.

Sirius had no trouble putting his feelings away. He could push down this incessant lump in his throat and put on a brave face for Harry, he could laugh in front of Remus and joke with the Weasley twins. But whenever he was alone, the feelings felt closer. They crawled over him and threatened to crush him under their weight. They would grab hold of him and pull him underneath the surface of despair, claw their way through his skin and scream in his ears until he couldn't stand it anymore. Until he clamped his hands over his ears and screamed back at them. Until he curled into a ball and whimpered helplessly.

Incidents like that had become more and more frequent lately.

It hadn't always been like that. His months on the run in the south of Spain had been rather pleasant. He was exhilarated by the feeling of freedom, he had a hippogriff that could take him wherever he wanted and there were people in the world who believed him and even cared about him. Merlin, the number of letters he had sent to Remus that summer . . . at least he had tried to restrict himself with Harry, but he had sent him a fair amount too. However, his good months had been cut short when his godson Harry had sent him a disconcerting letter that made him come back to England. Here he wasn't safe from anyone. Now that Lord Voldemort was back, Sirius was not only a fugitive from the ministry, he was also a target for the deatheaters should they ever find him. Curtesy of his traitorous friend Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew! It was all because of him that Sirius was stuck here now, in his dreaded childhood home. The name of the traitor made him want to plant his fist in something. Preferably Pettigrews' face. But the idea of beating up the traitorous rat didn't give him as much pleasure as it used to. Nothing could make up for what Pettigrew had done. Nothing could bring back Lily and James from the dead. No, what Pettigrew deserved was far worse than a beating. He deserved to die a painful and gruesome death. He deserved to burn in hell with all the other cowering deatheaters who crawled by Lord Voldemorts' feet and kissed his toenails. Sirius forced himself to calm down. It didn't do much good to let his fury get the better of him. Merlin knew how many times he'd done that. At least he knew Pettigrew wasn't living in luxury. From what he'd heard, he was currently forced to share a house with Snivelling Snape. Anyone would shudder at that thought. Yuck.

He shivered and stared dejectedly into the fire while cradling his bottle of fire whiskey. He imagined the flames could rise and spread and burn down everything around him. Merlin how he wanted to burn down this house.

Perhaps he'd be warmer then?

But the flames remained where they were, safely inside the fireplace.

Instead Siriuss' stomach started to growl.

Fuck.

He didn't want to make himself food, but he didn't trust Kreacher to do it for him. Kreacher would probably try to feed him poison, or worms of some kind. But he was so cold he dreaded the idea of leaving his place by the fire.

But after another hour of hollow complaint from his stomach, he finally dragged himself up from his armchair and stomped downstairs to the kitchen. Huddling himself together in his layers of wool. Hoping that no one would come by today. If Snape could see him now, he would definitely make fun of him. He hated that. He hated how Snape knew exactly what to say to irk him, to ignite his hatred and to hit where it stung the most. He hated how much Snapes' words actually hurt. Sirius knew Snape was only trying to get revenge for how Sirius had treated him at school but that only made it worse. Sirius knew, deep down that he probably deserved whatever Snape had to offer. Had he not been ten times worse himself when they were younger? And had he not always had James, Remus and . . . ugh, Pettigrew . . . to support him?

Snape had no one. It was hard not to pity the shitface.

He entered the dark and gloomy kitchen and immediately recognized the smell of dirty dishes. Ever since Christmas, Kreacher seemed unwilling to show his face anymore. Not even to throw shit at Sirius and his mudblood friends. He had stopped cleaning the house completely and did nothing but growl at him when he thought Sirius couldn't hear him. Merlin what a useless house elf. But Sirius had to admit it suited him perfectly. He hated that house elf. As much time away from his presence the better. He had lost count of how many times he had wished the stupid elf would crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

But Kreacher had at least used to keep the kitchen clean. Now it looked like a garbage dump.

Sirius waved his borrowed wand at the kettle, but he turned abruptly when he heard someone enter the front door upstairs. He hurriedly pulled off the blankets he had been wearing over his shoulders and folded them over one of the chairs. A chill ran through him when the warmth of the blankets left him, but he wanted to at least look like he wasn't some homeless hobo in his own house. The sweaters would have to stay he decided, when the thought of taking one of them off made him shudder.

And the smell of alcohol . . . well . . .

He feigned calmness while he listened to the footsteps coming down the stairs but couldn't help but feel surprise when he saw who it was.

Charlie Weasley.

The one of the Weasleys children Sirius knew the least.

Sirius had met him a few times through The Order, but Charlie mostly spent his time abroad in Romania. Last time he saw him was under the dire circumstances before Christmas when Charlies father, Arthur, had been sent to St. Mungos with some nasty snake bites.

"Hello Sirius" said Charlie. His face wore an unusually serious expression. Something dark behind his eyes overshadowed and dulled his polite smile.

"Charlie?" Asked Sirius in confusion. Charlie was supposed to have gone back to Romania after his father was deemed cured from his snakebite. Sirius hadn't expected him to stay in England still. "What brings you here?" he asked with a little tinge of alarm. Charlies expression worried him, and he wondered whether Charlie brought bad news, of the order, of Arthur, or perhaps of Harry?

Charlie said nothing while he placed his travelling bag on a chair with a closed expression "Well . . . I came home for a few days to check on dad."

"And?" asked Sirius. Charlie had only answered half the question. He had answered why he was in England, not why he was at Grimmauld place.

A slight hesitation came from the other man which made Sirius frown. "Is there something wrong, Charlie?" he asked.

"Nah" said Charlie quickly. "I just had a row with my mum 's all."

"Oh" said Sirius. Uncertain what to say to this.

"So, I wondered if I could stay here for the rest of the weekend until I go back to Romania?"

"That bad huh?" he said, wondering what on earth could have happened at home to make Charlie want to run off.

Charlie shook his head with a grim smile. "Could've been better."

Based on Charlies expression Sirius had a feeling that was a bit of an understatement.

"Well, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you want. It's not like I need all the space for myself."

"Thanks." Charlie shook off his heavy travelling cloak and put it on the chair before he slumped down by the table and buried his head in his hands. Sirius gingerly moved up to Charlies seat and sat down across from him. It must have been quite a row. Sirius had never seen Charlie look so dejected.

"May I ask you what your fight was about?" asked Sirius to curiously.

Charlie looked up at him with a streak of sadness in his eyes, but he shook his head. "let's just say it didn't go so well. Mum and I disagreed about something, and Bill and Dad took my side. So now Mum and Dad aren't talking, and when I aired the idea to give Mum a chance, Bill got angry with me too, so now Bill and I aren't talking either. It's a bloody mess. I'm glad Ginny, Ron and the twins are at school, or they would have been a part of this as well. I hate it when my family fights, and this time it's my fault."

Sirius studied Charlie, eventually deciding not to ask what the topic was. Instead he nodded. "But they'll come around eventually, I hope?" Asked Sirius, worried that this was something very serious.

"They will, I know they will" Said Charlie with conviction. At least Charlie didn't think this would ruin the family. And whatever they had disagreed on it wasn't enough to make Charlie leave his family like his younger brother Percy had.

"You were worried I was pulling a Percy?" Asked Charlie with a crocked smile as if he could read Siriuss mind.

"Well" said Sirius and mirrored Charlies smile "If you are, please don't pull me into it. I don't want to be on the receiving end of your mothers' wrath."

"Don't worry, you're safe. I just need somewhere to stay until I leave for Romania on Sunday."

Sirius nodded.

Charlie studied him for a moment. "You look like shit."

Sirius raised his eyebrows "Thanks?"

"No, I mean, you look worse than usual."

Sirius raised his eyebrows even higher. "No that's not what I meant." Said Charlie sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't mean you look like shit normally, you just look like you've spent twelve years in – but you don't want me to mention that I guess, what I mean is you look like-"

"Charlie."

"Errr. . ."

"You're rowing" said Sirius amused.

"Yeah" agreed Charlie without hesitation. "I can talk about dragons if you like, I am better at that" said Charlie sheepishly.

Sirius gave an undignified snort. He decided he liked Charlie all things considered.

"So why do look like shit?"

Sirius imagined a black veil fall across his face. "Why do you think?" he said gruffly, not wanting to explain further. He didn't talk about this with anyone, not even Remus, and he couldn't imagine talking about it with a stranger like Charlie Weasley either.

"Azcaban won't let you go" stated Charlie.

Sirius looked up at him. That was an interesting way of putting it. "I- yeah" he tried to say something articulate, but there was suddenly a lump in his throat.

Charlie studied him for a second apparently oblivious to his sudden lack of speech. Then he smiled. A nice and warm smile. "You look cold."

The statement made a shiver run up his spine as if his body had suddenly been reminded it was supposed to be cold. "I am always cold. After- . . ."

"After Azcaban" Charlie finished knowingly. "Why don't you keep a fire in the kitchen?" He asked and nodded towards the kitchen fireplace. "It's uncommonly cold down here."

"I just don't spend that much time here . . ."

Charlie tilted his head "Why not?" he asked.

Sirius shook his head, lost for describing words. "I just . . . hate it." He couldn't tell Charlie how the shadows were particularly active around him in the kitchen. He couldn't tell him how the trip down the staircase made his heart race like he'd run a mile. He couldn't tell him how Sirius Black, the coolest and most easy going of the marauders, had become scared of the dark . . . could he?

Charlie nodded before he rose from his chair to tend to the fire place. Sirius didn't see what he was doing, but after a few seconds there was a blazing fire in the fireplace. The warmth spread through the kitchen faster than normal. And Sirius immediately felt like he was sinking slowly into a hot bath after his long excruciating hours of cold. The feeling was amazing.

"You know your way around fire spells" stated Sirius casually while he rose from his seat and headed over to where Charlie stood. It was as if his body was pulled towards the warmth trying to soak in as much heat as possible from the fireplace.

He shuddered again.

"Comes with the job I guess" said Charlie with a sly smile, leaning against the table behind him.

There was a brief moment, only a millisecond, where something in Siriuss chest stirred. Charlie Weasley was covered in the flickering light from the fireplace. He couldn't help but notice the outline of the other man's neck and jaw. How the firelight deepened the nooks and crannies of his skin and how his ginger hair looked like it was on fire. Charlie was a few inches shorter than Sirius, stockier and more muscular than his brothers. Not as handsome as his brother Bill, but there was definitely something about him. Something that made Sirius want to see him in action, to see him take off that shirt and –

Sirius quickly averted his eyes when Charlie looked up at him. He suddenly felt conscious about his own looks. How he hadn't washed his hair for days. How he had stubble on his chin, and blue bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He probably also reeked of fire whiskey . . .

Sirius felt an eerie sense of foreboding for where his thoughts led him. His loneliness was playing tricks on him. If he started to feel attracted to everyone who walked in, then –. . . he blamed it on the fire whiskey.

". . . I thought I'd make some dinner. Would you like some?" he said to distract himself. As if to emphasize this, his stomach started to growl again.

Charlie smiled "Sure."

"So . . . what do you want?" He asked hesitantly. Sirius wasn't a good cook, not only because of his upbringing as a rich full-blood, but also because he had no imagination whatsoever. His meals, so far, had mostly consisted of whatever he could find in his pantry, whether it tasted good or not. Not that Sirius cared much of what it tasted. Ever since Azcaban, his sense of taste had gone awry, his sense of smell had dulled, and his stomach had been in an upheaval. Eating (which had been one of his favourite activities at school) no longer gave him any pleasure.

"What do you have?" Asked Charlie curiously.

"I, ah . . . don't know."

Charlie snorted and headed to his pantry. Sirius felt a whiff of Charlies scent when he passed, and to his horror, realized he liked it. Something stirred inside his chest again, something he hadn't felt for a long time. It was terrifying. He couldn't quite catch what Charlie said while he rummaged inside his pantry. His mind was suddenly distracted with something else entirely. Charlie came back with some groceries Sirius didn't know the name of and said something incomprehensible.

"Sorry?"

"Do you like chicken?" Charlie repeated with a grin.

"Well, yes but . . ."

"Good, then we'll make some chicken."

"What? Are you planning to make me dinner suddenly?"

"Yeah? Got a problem with that?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I can't expect all my guests to make me dinner in my own house. You're the guest, so_ I_ should make dinner."

"Do you even know how to cook?" Asked Charlie suspiciously. Sirius felt a little insulted all of a sudden. His spell work wasn't _that_ bad, even with a borrowed wand. "What do you mean 'do I even know how to cook'?" he asked sounding more scandalized than he'd meant to.

Suddenly Charlie seemed to realize what he was saying. "Err . . . sorry, I just thought perhaps-, I just meant you seem like- ahmm . . . I'll just shut up." he sat down at the edge of a chair and looked sheepish again. "Dragons?" Charlie offered like a piece offering.

Sirius snorted "Shoot." He quickly turned away and waved his wand at the groceries to distract himself. Charlie looked very attractive with that sheepish smile. 'Don't think like that, Sirius' he reprimanded himself. Molly Weasley would kill him if she found out he'd been leeching over one of her sons. It was a good idea to keep on Mollys' good side. She disliked him enough already.

Charlie continued to talk about dragons through dinner, and even though Siriuss' cooking was nowhere near as good as Mollys', Charlie didn't mention it with a single word. He then insisted on doing the dishes for them and waved his wand before Sirius had the time to protest. Sirius ended up standing there, watching, while Charlie made the plates wash and dry themselves before they flew into a cupboard in an intricate dancing formation.

Sirius couldn't help but snort at Charlies plate display. He then found his own wand and began to do his own charms on the dishwater bubbles. He turned them all into a Gryffindor red and gold before he made them hover in a similar dance routine across the table. Charlie grinned earnestly now and flickered his wand to make a little light appear inside every bubble. Sirius had to give it to him. Charlies charm work was excellent. Perhaps even better than his own. But Siriuss' strongest subject had always been transfiguration, so he didn't take it to heart. Instead he admired the beautiful lights that were now illuminating the kitchen, casting flickering lights of red and gold of the walls and glittering in the dim light. Perhaps the kitchen wasn't such a horrible place after all? At least the shadows that always haunted the room were gone, as if driven out by the unfamiliar beauty.

Sirius chuckled at the sudden though of driving his mother out of the house with bright colours and glitter.

"What's so funny?" Asked Charlie and gave him a curious look.

"Nothing. I just pictured my mothers' face if she could see this. She despised red and gold."

"Bill tells me your mother was a bitch" Charlie said boldly. "His words, not mine" he added when Sirius raised his eyebrows again.

"She was" agreed Sirius and looked down. A small pit formed in his stomach suddenly. "I assume you've seen her portrait."

"No, I haven't" said Charlie "I've only heard about from Bill. And you know how my dad keeps telling people to be quiet in the hallway. He talks like we're walking past a sleeping dragon."

Sirius snorted again. This time an image popped into his head of Charlie Weasley in full fire protection gear, handling his mother with shackles and ropes while she snarled and breathed fire. The image was strangely disturbing. "She was certainly as evil as a dragon."

Charlie put a hand to his heart, pretending to be insulted "I take offence on behalf of all dragons. They may be vicious, but they're not evil and they are surprisingly protective of their young."

"Really?" asked Sirius curiously "I didn't know that."

"Few people do. We only learn the basics in Care of Magical Creatures after all."

"What would you say is a better comparison then?"

"A Manticore, definitely. Those are truly terrible."

Sirius couldn't hold back his laughter. "Or perhaps an Acromantula?" he suggested jokingly.

"There you have it" agreed Charlie. "An Acromantula. That's what she is."

"She certainly looked like one" Sirius agreed.

"I'll give her this though, for a hairy, eight-legged monster she certainly managed to produce some good-looking children."

Sirius frowned and glanced at the dragonologist. Even in the flickering red and gold light, Sirius could see his ears had turned scarlet. Noooo . . . Charlie didn't just . . . it must have been a mistake, right? Charlie simply made an observation. He wasn't coming on to him . . . was he?

But the thought of Molly Weasleys fury, should she ever find out about Siriuss' indecent thoughts about her son, made him decide to casually brush it off. He snorted again and said something in the line of 'at least she managed that' and 'hoping he had at least shunned off some of his mothers' worst traits'. He wasn't completely certain what he was saying because his mind was wandering in a completely different direction.

Charlie had also decided to pretend he'd never said anything. Instead he changed the subject. While they talked about Hogwarts, Sirius realized a part of him regretted brushing off Charlies comment. What would have happened if he'd let things play in that direction? Did he want them to play in that direction? Did Charlie want them to play in that direction? Or was Sirius reading too much into it suddenly?

He wasn't sure what was happening at the moment, but he continued the conversation all the same, hoping Charlie didn't notice his distraction.

He soon realized Charlie was incredibly easy to talk to. He was clever. He was kind. Maybe a tad too interested in dragons, but there was no harm in that. And while they talked he simply couldn't help noticing details in his face that attracted him. For example; the lines that formed around Charlies mouth when he smiled, or how his blue eyes glinted in the fire-light. Sirius also couldn't help but notice that one distinct freckle on the tip of Charlies nose. It looked like someone had painted it on.

He ended up mentioning it.

"Yes, I'm aware" said Charlie while he took another sip of the butterbeer they had decided to open. "Fred and George have been teasing me about it for days. They keep saying they should stick a sign in my forehead saying 'Kiss me on the spot' or some other rubbish. I made a pair of the kitchen chairs chase them out in the garden for that" Said Charlie with a fond chuckle.

At that moment Sirius did something he probably shouldn't have. But Sirius Black was prone to do things he shouldn't.

He kissed Charlie Weasley on the spot, on the tip of his nose.

Charlie went silent mid chuckle and proceeded to stare at Sirius in astonishment. Feeling stupid, Sirius tried to cover it up with a sly grin. "You didn't need the sign" he tried to joke.

But when Charlie continued to stare at him, now with a frown upon his brows, Sirius decided to apologise. "I'm sorry" he said and took a step back, feeling more foolish by the second. He put his hands up as if to fend the dragonologist off. "I shouldn't have- . . . I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It was meant . . ." he trailed off. He didn't know what he'd meant.

"Don't move" said Charlie suddenly. Stopping Sirius in his tracks. "Stay where you are. I'm trying to figure something out."

Charlie closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them again. His blue eyes piercing Siriuss' soul, making his heart race. Then he put down his butterbeer and took a slow and deliberate step towards him, still with a piercing gaze, as if he was trying to figure out a complicated puzzle.

Sirius meanwhile, had a terrible urge to break Charlies gaze and run away. A tiny part of him was convinced Charlie planned to punch him. Homosexuality was after all, not commonly accepted in the magical world. At least not among the pure bloods (yes, the magical world was painfully far behind on that subject). But that didn't seem to be Charlies goal while he studied him.

Then he stepped closer.

He came so close their noses almost touched and slowly put his large, calloused hands on Siriuss' waist.

Sirius had been with a male partner before, but never one he had found this attractive. And of course, not since he was thrown into Azcaban where he'd spent twelve years rotting in his cell alone. It was like his experience had abandoned him and left a nervous teenager in his wake. He felt like a virgin again. A sad, 35-year-old virgin who, at the moment, didn't know what to do with himself.

He let out an involuntary shaky breath which made it Charlies turn to grin. But he didn't say anything. Instead he let his lips brush over Siriuss' briefly. A sweet kiss that only lasted for a millisecond. Then another. And then a third kiss where he lingered on his lips for a few seconds. Tasting him. Breathing him. The kiss made Sirius feel light-headed. His heart continued to race, and his body refused to calm down its incessant trembling.

In that moment two thoughts hit him simultaneously. The first one was a bothersome doubt of how old Charlie really was . . . He was not in school anymore, but how far out of school was he again? If Sirius was kissing a barely nineteen-year-old, did that make him a paedophile? Also; this was the first person he had kissed since the wizarding war. He didn't even remember who the last person was. Whether it was a girl or a boy, muggle or magical. All he knew was that he hadn't had a single romantic or sexual experience since he was thrown in Azcaban.

It was so long he had forgotten how it felt to have someone elses' lips upon his . . .

He responded almost too eagerly. He'd been unaware until now how much he'd needed something like this. In a desperate attempt to savour every part of the dragonologist, he deepened the kiss immediately and pulled his hands through Charlies hair. Breathing his scent. Feeling his warmth.

Charlie meanwhile tightened his arms around his waist and pulled him even closer, pressing their lower bodies together. They unconsciously moved backwards until Charlie bumped against the kitchen counter and released Sirius to steady himself. Sirius moved his hands down to lean against the counter, straddling Charlies waist with his arms.

Instead of pulling his hands through Siriuss' hair like he'd expected, Charlie pulled off his sweater and shirt, so he stood in the cold kitchen bare chested.

Sirius hesitated. Without meaning to, he had taken a step back and released Charlies waist.

Damn this was going fast . . . Very fast.

"What?" Asked Charlie breathlessly.

"Are you sure about this . . . it's a long time since I . . . I mean, I can't guarantee that- . . ."

Charlies gaze suddenly filled with an overwhelming understanding. Sirius had to look away in shame. It was after all, impossible not to compare Charlies perfectly chiselled chest with his own skinny, hollow one. Had this been fourteen years ago, Sirius wouldn't hesitate to sleep with a man as handsome as Charlie Weasley. Fourteen years ago, he had been handsome and confident himself . . .

But Azcaban had ruined that.

Azcaban had taken away whatever muscle he had in his arms, whatever tan he had in his skin, whatever glint he had in his eyes, and instead given him hollow cheeks, made his hair dry and stringy and worst of all . . . taken away his confidence.

He couldn't promise Charlie a good experience. He couldn't promise he would last more than a few seconds. He couldn't promise he'd be able to perform anything at all . . . Charlie Weasley was young, strong and handsome, while Sirius was old, tired and . . . hollow.

The distracting thoughts made him feel the need to pull away further to get control over his emotions. Insecurity was a concept very foreign for him. And it hurt.

But after a minute of silence he felt a large hand on his cheek and looked up at Charlie again. "You know I don't care" said Charlie. His eyes shone with sincerity.

"Are you sure? I can't guarantee that–"

"Yes! Look, let's just have some fun, right? No expectations, just fun."

Fun. That was a language Sirius could recognize. He could do that. He had never had sex for any other reason than that after all. But it was more than twelve years since he'd had fun last, and a small part of him still hesitated.

That was until the cheeky dragonologist put a hand behind Siriuss' knee and pulled it up around his waist. Without warning he pushed him down on the kitchen table to snog him properly.

And Sirius Black was lost.

* * *

There was a point through the night when Sirius realized he wasn't cold anymore.

He and Charlie didn't move away from the kitchen but had their 'fun' on a blanket on the floor near the fire. Sirius couldn't remember having a better night.

Laying naked on the blanket with Charlies head on his shoulder it took him a while to realize he had a perfect temperature. The floor may be hard and cold beneath them, but it seemed only an insignificant discomfort. It was like Charlie Weasley emitted some sort of aura of warmth that radiated to his core and warmed him up from the inside. He didn't want to let it go. He didn't want to release the redhead in his arms and let him disappear.

He closed his eyes and buried his nose in Charlies hair, relishing in the feeling of warmth.

His scent was so nice.

It was long since he'd felt so comfortable. Before Azcaban he'd tended to take things like this for granted, but now he knew better. He needed to appreciate the little things while he had them. Life didn't last forever, and things may disappear without a moments notice.

Same with family.

Sirius looked down at Charlie again, curiously this time. Now that he was looking for it, he could clearly detect something desolate in Charlies air. Under his smiles and jokes, there was definitely a streak of sadness. Even now, while they were laying there on the blanket, he could detect a frown on the redheads' forehead that he knew wasn't directed at himself.

It made him curious. Was this desolation all because of his fight with his mother?

"May I ask you what your fight was about?" Sirius heard himself say, even before he had agreed with himself whether to ask or not. Charlie shifted his head on Siriuss' shoulder, tracing a scar he had on his abdomen with his finger. A scar he'd gotten many years ago in a wrestling match with Remus during the full moon.

Charlie smiled bitterly. "I told them I was gay."

Sirius pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Charlie properly. "No . . ."

"Yeah." The bitter smile was now replaced with a dark look.

Sirius studied Charlie thoroughly. "And . . . your mother didn't accept that?" He asked hesitatingly after a few minutes of silence.

"Well . . . Mum's always wanted grandchildren, so she started to prattle on about how it would be a much better idea if I chose a girl and started a family." Sirius tightened his arm around Charlies shoulder unconsciously. Charlie laughed sadly. "You should have seen Bill. He was furious. They started this epic shouting match until Bill pulled me with him and left."

"And then?"

"Well, dad followed us and told me he didn't care and that he'd try to talk to mum about it. At least dad still accepts me." Charlies tightened grip around Sirius waist told him this probably hurt Charlie more than he wanted to let on. He felt a pit form in his stomach at the thought. He had never thought Molly Weasley would be so . . . medieval. But he guessed sometimes people you thought you knew turned out to have some strange quirks. Molly Weasley did in fact come from a pureblooded family. Although not as high rank as the Blacks, the Prewetts were a well esteemed family in the magical society. She might have picked up some strange prejudices that not even she could explain.

This knowledge however, presented tiny problem for Sirius, and he couldn't help but air it. "Charlie . . . Have you any idea what position this puts me?"

Now Charlie too pushed himself up on his elbows with a frown "What?"

"What do you think your parents are gonna think? To them it'll look like you ran off to have sex with the first queer bloke you could find. I – if I had known. . ."

"Would you have steered away from me?" Charlie asked with a crocked smile although there was a clear look of disappointment in his eyes.

". . . no" Sirius admitted. He wasn't prone to take the rational and safe choices. He was Sirius Black after all. "But your mother's gonna hate me. Probably gonna put the blame for this on me as well."

Charlie smiled sadly and let himself down on the blanket again with a huff. "You know that is not why I slept with you, right?"

Sirius let himself down again too. "I know that" he said while Charlie put his head back on his shoulder and draped a warm arm around his waist. Pulling him closer. "Good" he said and stretched his neck to kiss his throat. Sirius became rather distracted when Charlie, the sneaky bastard, continued to kiss his neck and then proceeded to snog him again. Said snog turned into another round of hot sex.

Sirius Black was easily distracted.

Panting and sweating he settled himself in Charlies arms this time.

After a few moments of silence where Molly Weasley was blissfully forgotten, Sirius felt a strange urge to try some comforting words. "You know, your mother is not an idiot. I've seen how she loves all her children, and after your brothers' escapade . . . she won't let that happen again. She'll come around."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I know. She doesn't really have anything against homosexuality, but she stresses a lot about things she shouldn't. I mean, it still hurts when she does it, but I know she doesn't mean it that way. She only wants what is best for us, and sometimes her need for control gets out of hand."

"But you think you can forgive her?"

". . . She's my mother. I can't hate her . . ." said Charlie eventually.

"You truly are a good human being. Too good if you ask me" said Sirius without thinking.

"I do try" said Charlie with a crooked grin. "Now can we please stop talking about my mother when we clearly have better things to do with our time?"

"Again?" said Sirius when Charlie pushed him down on the blanket and proceeded to kiss his neck.

"Give the old man some rest, I'm dying over here."

* * *

Sirius was glad he and Charlie had decided to get dressed for breakfast the next morning. About eight in the morning, while they sat by the table, each with a cup of tea, Molly Weasley and her husband Arthur plus their oldest son Bill burst through the kitchen door without warning. Sirius thanked the heavens he was wearing clothes at that moment, and that Molly Weasley hadn't burst in ten seconds earlier while he and Charlie had been snogging against the kitchen counter.

Charlie seemed equally relieved for the same reasons. But he didn't have time to worry about much else when Molly threw herself around her sons neck and started sobbing.

Sirius left immediately. Not wanting to be a part of it. Together with Bill, he went to stay in the library until Arthur came in and announced they were going home together. He thanked Sirius for letting Charlie stay for the night and said he hoped to see him at the next order meeting.

And that was that.

Charlie was going to leave.

Sirius leaned on the doorframe of the library, watching the four Weasleys leave through the front door, feeling like the walls were closing in on him. As if Charlies presence was the only reason why the entire house hadn't crashed down around him yet.

There was a desolate pressure on his chest at the thought of being left alone again.

But Charlie lingered for a second behind his parents and turned back. It looked like there was something he wanted to say. But instead he came back towards Sirius and stopped in front of him. Sirius noticed that when he leaned against the frame; their eyes were the same height. Charlie kissed him on last time before he lay a large hand on his chest. "I hope to see you again sometime."

It was a statement, but the way Charlie said it made it sound like a question. A hopeful question to see whether Sirius wanted to do this with him again. Sirius realized to his own surprise that he did.

He really wanted to see Charlie again.

So, he nodded.

Charlie gave him one last smile before he left through the front door after his parents. Sirius was again alone in the ever desolate Grimmauld place. He shuddered against the cold air that was now seeping through his pores and let out a shaky sigh before he went to the kitchen to have another swig of the fire whiskey.

* * *

**Authors note:**

Hello, and thank you for reading.

This story is me trying out some unconventional pairings and so I decided on these two. I have read stories with these two before, but this doesn't seem to be the most popular pairing. I did however enjoy myself while writing it. I hope I managed to make at least a half decent capture Siriuss feelings after Azcaban. Sirius makes a great character not only because he is so scarcely depicted in the books, which creates an air of mystery around him, but also because you know he suffers more greatly than Harry ever understood. Still, he is not at the top of my list of favourite characters. Although, he deserves some credit for his importance in the books and in Harrys life.

I didn't want to give this story a definite end. Instead I'm leaving it open for interpretation. Whether Sirius and Charlie would be able to hit it off in a relationship or if it turns out they're not suited for eachother, I'm not sure. If anyone feels the urge, you are very welcome to continue this story if you like.


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